Tsunami
by cybErdrAgOn
Summary: Based on the book Stormbreaker, Seto Kaiba must risk everything to discover the truth about his uncle and his last assignment.
1. The Silver Mercedes

This is an AU based on Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz and is very Seto Kaiba-centered. For those people who haven't read it, it's an espionage-terrorist story that freaked me out. Also if you don't like Kaiba or if you can't let Marik be the villian or have Isis/Ishizu/Kaiba then don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own or claim to own Stormbreaker or Yu-Gi-Oh!

Chapter One: The Silver Mercedes

The doorbell rang. As Seto Kaiba glanced at his clock, he saw that it was only three--three o'clock in the morning. Groggily he dressed and walked downstairs to answer the door, but he saw the intern was already there. So were the police.

"Are you Mrs. Rider?" asked one officer.

"No, I'm an intern from Egypt," replied Isis.

Seto walked over to the door. "I am Seto Kaiba. Are you..." His voice trailed off as he saw the looks on their faces. "You're not...for real?" As he later recalled, they were using their funeral voices.

"Unfortunately, yes," sighed the officer. "Your uncle was killed in a car accident. We took him to the hospital and..." He muttered many other phrases Seto only caught partially, but the truth was clear. His only older relative was gone.

"How could this be?" he demanded. "Mr. Kaiba was an excellent driver. Tell me, how could he have been in a car accident in the middle of a city?"

The officer ran a hand through his hair. "He wasn't wearing a seat belt."

"That's impossible," Seto sneered. "He always wears a seat belt. My father's brother is probably the most careful person I've ever met."

"Well, he wasn't careful enough this time. I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you now. The service is tomorrow."

At that time, Mokuba half-walked, half-stumbled down the stairs. "What's going on, big brother?"

Seto saw him and quickly changed his tone. "Nothing that I can't tell you in the morning," he soothed. "Why don't you go back to sleep?" When he had left, Seto returned his attention to the officers. "So you're telling me that Mr. Kaiba was killed in a car accident in the middle of a city, was rushed to intensive care, and died, all because he didn't wear a seat belt? The seat belt part is ridiculous enough."

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you any other information. Goodbye, Mr. Kaiba." With that, they turned and left the house.

Somehow none of this seemed right to Seto. He made up his mind that tomorrow, right after the service, he would take a look in his uncle's private office, the one place that was always locked. Maybe that would hold some answers...

At the funeral service, a man approached him offering his condolences. He said he was from the bank his uncle was a manager at, a bank called Japan International. >"Your uncle was a fine man, and we are very sorry to lose him. My name is Mr. Muto, has he ever mentioned me to you?"

"No," Seto replied, although his mind was elsewhere. The man seemed unnatural, almost, but really, he had no reason to suspect him. Or at least he didn't until Mr. Muto stepped into his limousine. As the driver reached over to close the door, his jacket slipped momentarily. In his pocket was a small, but powerful pistol. Why would a bank manager be armed? He shrugged it off. At least he would be able to look into the "forbidden" office.

When he opened the office door, Seto stood rooted to the ground in shock. Mr. Kaiba was gone, and so were all of his files, documents, anything to do with his job. But what could have been so important as a bank manager so that someone would break into his house? The whole seat belt issue still puzzled him--perhaps if he saw the car at a junkyard he would have felt more trusting. 

It was a silver Mercedes; Seto was sure it was Mr. Kaiba's car. The license plate matched, but now he knew the police, Mr. Muto, everyone was lying. From far away, the car appeared to be in perfect condition, not a scratch, couldn't possibly have been in a fatal accident. As he walked closer, over the piles of bent metal, he shook his head in disbelief. It...couldn't have been. The glass was shattered and sprayed over the driver's seat, and small holes riddled the side panel, but that was all. There were small dark brown stains on the seat that needed little speculation. Now Seto could picture his uncle's last moments, but why all this for a bank manager?

His thoughts were disturbed by the rumbling sound of machinery. But when he looked up, it was already too late. The giant crusher had already closed in upon the car, trapping his leg to the roof. Then suddenly it deposited the entire car in another heap. Sighing with relief, he climbed out of the half-crushed car, just grateful to be alive. But by that time, the machinery operator had climbed out. "What do ya think you're doin' here, kid?" he growled.

But Seto decided not to answer.One day when he ws six, his uncle took him to a karate class without explanation, and he had been taking lessons ever since. Now he was a blackbelt, and all the training stepped into play when he brought up one leg and lashed out.The man didn't even have time to yell, just collapsed. Seto ran around him, headed to his bike, and raced home.

When he reached his house in the evening, he looked at himself in the mirror. One shoe on, clothes ripped apart, and completely oil-streaked, he knew he looked an unusual sight. But he had escaped with his life, and that was more than Mr. Kaiba could do. However, one thing was certain now: his uncle was not who they all thought.


	2. Powerless

Same info that goes for the first chapter. FYI, a couple of people will be killed in this fanfic. If you're afraid that your favorite character's going to die, then don't read. I know Seto's ver OOC, but it's an AU, so maybe I'll correct that. Also Mr. Muto is Yugi's great-uncle but his name's still Solomon for lack of a better one. I know Japan International's not a very good bank name, but I can't think of anything else. And it's not really Isis/Seto, she's just an intern studying history who lives in his house because, well you'll see.

Disclaimer: I don't own or claim to own Stormbreaker or Yu-Gi-Oh!

Chapter Two: Powerless

The next morning seemed almost normal compared to the events of the past day. When Seto glanced at his watch halfway through breakfast, the phone rang. "Hello. This is Solomon Muto, the chairman of Japan International. I was wondering if you could come in today," said a voice.

"Excuse me?" He was already five minutes late.

"Yes, this afternoon. We need to speak to you in person regarding your uncle." By now, the voice was almost commanding him to come, although in person, Mr. Muto was the last person you would expect to make any demand."

"When? I hope this is important, because I already know how my uncle died."

"We would like to see you as soon as school ends. We'll send a cab--"

"I'll be there. And I can take the subway." With that, Seto hung up and quickly finished his breakfast.

"Who was that?" Isis asked. She was concerned about her future as well, since with his uncle gone, she had no other income. As well, her visa would expire soon, and she wouldn't be allowed to remain in the country studying Egyptian history, her major. But as both of them knew, without a major lucky break, she would have to leave, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"It was from the bank." he replied. "They're asking me to go there this afternoon about my father's brother." Never his uncle. He had always hated that term, prefering to be called Seto's father's brother. "I'll be back probably around 5."

Mokuba ran down the stairs. "What happened to our uncle?" he asked. "Something's happened, I know it!" He looked as if he were about to burst into tears, that not knowing the truth was somehow worse then understanding. Especially since he had not been told about the service, he was every bit as skeptical as his brother.

Seto knew he could hide the truth no longer, but how could he mention the junkyard without worrying everyone more? So he decided to tell him only what was necessary. "Mokuba, he's...gone. They had a service yesterday, but we didn't want you to come because..." he trailed off. "Anyways, I'm going to his bank today and find out what's going to happen to us. I'm sure we'll all be fine."

"Maybe," sniffed Mokuba. Somehow, he wasn't conviced. Instead, he sat down at the table and got breakfast. "Well, have a good day, big brother."

"You too, and you, Isis," he smiled. With that, he grabbed his bag and ran out the door, knowing that now he was most definitely late. School dragged by, one subject, one class, one period each right after the other. Finally, the dismissal bell sounded, and Seto took the subway to Japan International just as he had said, still wearing his blue uniform.

In an office on the 14th floor, three people watched a monitor showing the displays of various security cameras. "So he came after all," remarked Mr. Muto. "I didn't think it'd be this easy."

Beside him stood a young blond woman who looked like she belonged more at a fashion show than a bank. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"Very sure," he replied. "Do you know what to do?" he addressed to the driver of the junkyard machinery. He looked around nervously.

"Yes," was the only reply.

"Good. Then I guess I'll go down and greet our young guest." He left the room and walked to the elevator just outside.

Downstairs, one of the elevator doors opened and Mr. Muto stepped out. "Yes," he said, and gestured back. "Let's go to my office. We'll take the elevator." Alex followed him silently into the plain, cramped elevator. If he had looked closely, he would have seen another camera, and more importantly, a thermal intesifier that would have shown any cold steel. But when one rides in an elevator, one is not observing his/her surroundings, and that rule held true for Seto. "We're here," he smiled and led Seto into a corridor lined by many doors. The boy stopped after passing two. Each door had a nameplate, and he recognized one of them: M. Kaiba.

"Do I have permssion to enter that room?" he suddenly asked.

"Unfortunately, I don't seem to have a key, and it's most certainly locked." He did not seem the least bit sorry. "Perhaps next time." He entered the room adjacent to it and motioned for Seto to sit. "Now, your uncle's will..." He was interrupted by the phone, which he spoke into briefly and then hung up. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I'm needed back in the lobby. Is that alright?'

Seto nodded. He waited a few seconds for the man to leave the room, and then quietly left to try the door. Mr. Muto wasn't lying; it was locked. But he wasn't about to give up and looked out the window for inspiration. A narrow ledge ran just outside the window; if he could walk over and the window wasn't locked, he knew he could get in. Still it was 15 stories up... if it were at ground level it would be child's play, so Seto tried not to think about the 150 feet of empty space below him. To his surprise, the windows weren't locked, and he entered the room. The office wasn't much; all it held were some pictures of him, a desk, and a few file cabinets. Seto knew he didn't have much time, and he opened one drawer and pulled out a folder. Glancing through it, the subfolders were labeled with nothing to do with banking. One read Nerve Gases. Another, A Case study of Assasinations. A third, The Path of Uranium, and the fourth, simply Tsunami. The door suddenly opened, and Mr. Muto and the driver walked in. Seto knew there was no point in pretending, so he decided to be direct. "My uncle was never a banker. Did you kill him?" he remarked harshly. "Will you explain yourselves?"

"So many questions. But I'm afraid I'm not authorized to give you the answers." He motioned to the driver, and he opened fire with a concealed gun. Then everything went black.

When he woke up in a large comfortable bed, Seto was surprised to be even alive. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was 9:00 in the morning. He had lost 18 hours. "Must have been a drugged dart," he thought. All of his clothes had been brought over from the house, although he wondered how they had managed without rousing Isis's suspicion. He showered in the private bathroom and got dressed. When he walked out into the hall, Mr. Muto was waiting for him with a blond woman.

"Ah, so you're awake now? We didn't particularly want to have you shot, but I'm sure you'll understand that it was the easiest way. This is my colleague, Ms. Valentine." He wordlessly asked Seto to have a seat at an expensive-looking table.

"I'm sure you'ved figured out by now that Japan International is not a bank, just a cover. And your uncle, of course, worked for me. I am Solomon Muto, chief executive of the Special Operations. Your uncle was a spy, one of our best field agents. I know this must come as a shock, but you will have to believe us."

"Yes, yes, now would you please get to the point?" He tried to show no emotion and feign boredom.

"His luck ran out on his last mission working undercover in a port near Sapporo, you do know where that is?" When the boy nodded, Mr. Muto continued, "He took the plane back to the main island and was driving back to Tokyo when he was ambushed. We arranged to have the car brought here."

Seto considered all this for a moment. "So all I know that my uncle was a spy, and because of you he was killed. Don't you think I have a right to know who killed him? And by the way, as soon as you tell me what's going to happen, I'll sign the Silence Act and leave."

"It's not that easy," said the woman, who was speaking for the first time. "Wouldn't you like to know what he was doing?"

"Fine," he snarled. "But after that I'm leaving."

"First I suppose I should begin with a man, no, more like a boy named Marik Takashi," he began. "Born in Egypt to parents of complete poverty. He should have grown up to be like them, but when he was seven, he was walking down Fez Street In Cairo, when he saw a piano fall out of a window directly in the path of some Japanese tourists. At the last minute, he threw himself at them and pushed them out of the way. The tourists were very wealthy, it turns out, and they unofficially adopted him and brought him back to Tokyo with them. He was in middle school with the prime minister's son, but anyways, his adopted parents died two years ago. Marik, of course, took over their company which produced computers, and he has made a revolutionary new invention. Their new computer is called the Tsunami, being manufactured by Takashi Incorporated. Black case with a tidal wave design on the side. It has a completely new technology as well, I'm sure you've heard?"

"Takashi Incorporated is planning to give away one Tsunami to every middle school in the country, and of course, the government is too eager to receive them to think further. But we've been wondering if it's too good to be true, so we sent our best man down. Three weeks later, he called saying the computer cannot leave the port. He drove up to Tokyo immediately and got shot. They're going to be shipped out in three weeks. We need a replacement for him."

The truth sank in upon him. "If you're asking me, forget it."

"We need to send someone who won't be noticed," replied Ms. Valentine. "A few weeks ago, we saw one of those computer magazines running a contest. The first place prize was to be the first kid to use the Tsunami at Takashi's place. It was won by an American, Steve Larken. Looks a little like you. He's expected two weeks from now."

"We're suggesting you come work for us. We'll give you some basic training, and then you'll just replace the other boy," she continued. "You shouldn't be in any danger, and all you need to do is report back to us. So what do you say?"

"No danger? Do you take me for an idiot with a false sense of glory?" he sneered. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to pass. I want a normal life."

Mr. Muto sighed. "That's too bad," he said. Something about his tone was almost menacing and mechanical now. "We'd better move on to your future then. Now, Japan International is your legal guardian. The girl who lives with you, Isis is her name? She'll have to return to Egypt. You and your brother will be put in orphanages, since I'm afraid you have no relatives to take care of you. And you should be prepared to be separated--money's tight, and most of them can't afford to take in two."

"What's this, blackmail?" Seto retorted. But he knew every word of it would be true if he did not agree. Himself in an orphanage was no big deal, but Mokuba? If he were separated, then there would be no point in fighting on.

"It's a chance to serve your country," the woman interjected. "This is a training center, and we can start right away if you'd like."

"So what happens if I help you and I live long enough to tell you?"

Mr. Muto shrugged. "Help us and we'll help you. I'm sure you know special operations has traditionally had a great deal of influence. Now would you like to start training soon?"

"Then start at once," he spoke mechanically. He had no choice. Now Seto knew what it felt like to be trapped.


End file.
